


Breathe For Two

by withoutwords



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Brief Non Graphic Description of Violence, But It Feels Like Established Relationship, Domesticity, First Time, Fluff, M/M, No One Does Any Actual Police Work, Slowish build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 03:34:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4419593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withoutwords/pseuds/withoutwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m gonna head out,” Steve says, moving in to give Grace a goodbye hug, but Danny’s hand reaches out and curls, warm, around his forearm. They share a look over Grace’s head that Steve can’t fully decipher. Apology, or appealing, he can’t be sure.</p><p>“Stay, alright?” Danny says, and his hand slides down to Steve's wrist to secure him. “Just stay.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathe For Two

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Дыши за двоих](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12107418) by [cicada](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cicada/pseuds/cicada)



> I wanted more post!Charlie-is-Danny’s-son discovery, so I wrote it :) I’ve still only seen up to 5x15, other than a few clips, so I’m sorry if there are any glaring inconsistencies. Also, their canonical relationships are mostly just used as a plot device. I’m sorry if this offends you.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Steve gets to Danny’s place with just enough time to pull Stan off him, an arm around Stan’s neck and an angry, spitting hiss of, “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.” They’re just off the road and in plain sight, but Steve’s never had a better reason to abuse _immunity and means_ than right now.

“Don’t,” Danny says from his place on the ground, a split lip and no fight in him, waving at Steve to stop. His cheek is already swelling, black and blue, and Steve can’t decide what sort of pain he wants to inflict first. “It’s fine, just – just let him go.”

“ _Let him go_?”

Danny coughs, and moans, as he sits up on the muddy grass, covered in browns and reds and earth. “Isn’t that what I just said?”

“Danny, you - ”

“Steve,” and it’s the desperation in his voice, the fact that he’s asking for his _own_ sake, that gets Steve. “Let him go.”

Steve doesn’t let go so much as loosen his grip and Stan takes the first opportunity to move away. It takes Steve a long moment to realise Danny hadn’t touched Stan – unmarked and in full force - he hadn’t tried to defend himself at all. It frightens Steve to the point of making his own fists and scaring Stan right back.

“You can’t do this, Danny,” Stan says, flickering glances between Danny and Steve as if bracing for another fight. “Not now, not – with everything.”

“You’ve got about ten seconds to get out of here before I ignore what Danny wants and shoot you,” Steve says, making Danny laugh until he coughs. 

“You better go,” he says, wheezy, “He really enjoys ignoring me.”

Stan goes. Spinning tyres and air so thick Steve could cut it, slumping down next to Danny and trying not wince as he sees his face up close. What was fear is slowly becoming anger; how dare Danny ask that of him, how dare he be the martyr when he wouldn’t have spared a second thought had the situation been reversed.

“This is bullshit, Danny,”

“Don’t, alright? Don’t climb up onto your high horse while I’m down here eating shit, okay? You actually _blame_ him? You think I wouldn’t have done the same?”

Steve let’s out a ragged breath, steeling. “That’s not the point.”

“I slept with his wife, Steve. I’m the reason his only kid is _not his kid_. The only reason he can’t help save his life, I - ” Danny’s voice cuts off and his head hangs. When he speaks again it’s in a low, guilty murmur, like a confession. “I’d want to hurt me.” 

Steve doesn’t bother saying, you already are, because it’s what Danny does best. It’s what he chooses to do. Steve’s probably going to spend the rest of his life trying to stop Danny hurting himself in one way or another. “What’s this about? What did he mean when he said you can’t do this?”

“He doesn’t want anyone to know. Grace, Charlie … he wants me to keep quiet.”

“Is that what this was?” Steve snaps. “A warning?”

“No. This was an outlet.”

There’s stillness for a while. It’s early, just the sound of distant traffic or the far off wailing of someone’s baby. Steve tries not to think about how that could have been Danny; raising a baby in Hawaii, raising a _son_. It hits him like a gut punch, imagining that he would be part of that in some way. 

“Is he right?” Danny suddenly says, and he’s looking at Steve with those eyes. With that, tell me what I want to hear, curl of his mouth. “Do you think I should wait til he’s older, til he’s better?” 

“I don’t know, Danny. I lived three _decades_ and I wasn’t ready to hear my dad wasn’t the man I thought he was.”

Danny huffs, and swings an arm out slowly to clasp his hand around Steve’s knee. “He was a great man,” he says gently, and Steve puts his own hand on top of Danny’s, allowing a small smile. “You know he was.”

“Yeah, but he had a lot to learn about being a great dad. You - ”Steve takes his hand away because he can’t bear this right now. He can’t sit here and look at Danny’s actual, visible pain and just pretend that everything’s going to be okay. “You are the best dad I’ve ever known. Every kid should be so lucky.”

Danny’s grateful smile slowly collapses into sadness, his head falling between his bent knees and his shoulders hunched trying to fight back tears. Steve splays a hand on his back, to brace, and when he hears Danny’s quiet sobs he just digs his fingers in a little more, to remind him that he’s there.

*

Danny’s in and out of work over the next few weeks, barely present when he is there, a glaring, gaping hole when he’s not. Cath leaves for good, and late at night, while Steve’s doing up the zip on the back of her dress. He rubs his thumb back and forth against the smooth, exposed skin of her neck and she doesn’t turn around when she says,

“I have to go back.” 

When she does turn to face him it’s to add, “I love you,” but they both know that was always their problem anyway. I love you, and that’s why it hurts (or I love you, but I still choose this pain).

Steve tells her he won’t wait for her again and Cath tells him he shouldn’t have to, and it’s done. Done like the stitching of a bleeding wound, or the vibrant ink of a tattoo. Finished, and fading, but never gone (how do you ever let go of something like that?)

When he gets drunk with Chin he asks him how he knew, with Malia, how he could ever be sure that she was the one.

“Because I never had to ask myself that question,” Chin admits, tapping Steve’s bottle with his own.

*

Steve vaguely remembers something Danny said to him once, way back at the start. They were working an abduction case, and interviewing a young boy whose dad had disappeared. Danny said something like, _is everything going to become personal to you_ , something like that, just because someone’s dad was gone, just because that boy had no-one left now.

It pissed Steve off. A lot. But he wasn’t wrong. Danny always had him worked out.

“What’s going on with your face?”

Steve snaps his gaze away from where Grace and Charlie are snuggled together on the couch watching cartoons, Danny sneaking up on him. They said Charlie was doing okay, that there were positive signs, but he still looked tired, looked ashen, to Steve.

“You couldn’t even see my face,” Steve replies in hushed tones, just loud enough so Danny can hear him over the television.

“It’s a lot easier than saying, what’s with the Navy SEAL shoulders and lurking in the shadows, you goof. You’re allowed to go over there.”

“I don’t like it,” Steve hears himself say, and he’s obviously had that one stored away since this morning. He even surprises himself.

“You don’t like being with my kids?”

“What, _no_. God, Danny, _seriously_?” If Danny thought he had a face before, he’s definitely got one now, and Steve pushes him gently into the kitchen. “I mean, this whole, Charlie’s staying at Danno’s ‘cause his mom and dad have to go away, _thing_ that we’re doing right now. I don’t like it.”

Danny journeys from confused to ticked off in a matter of seconds, his jaw tightened and his eyes like slits. There’s still a faded, yellow bruise high on his cheek, only visible in the bright light. It makes Steve’s skin crawl. “Newsflash, Steven, neither do I!” Danny hisses, a hand rolling out “But what choice do I have?” 

“There’s always a choice.”

“Says the guy who told me to be nice to a woman who lied to me for three years. _About my kid_.”

“That was different. That was when I thought you were both going to be parenting together. Not with you sidelined to protect everyone’s feelings.”

“To protect Charlie.”

“You think you’re protecting him? Or Grace?”

“Don’t you fucking dare start this with me.” Danny spits, shaking his head and creating some distance. His shirt is tight across his arms and back, the angry flex of his muscles, and if they were alone Steve knows they’d be neck deep in an argument loud enough to wake the neighbours. “Not now, not with my children in there waiting for Danno. Don’t ruin it.”

“I’m not trying to ruin anything - ”

“You never are, but it always manages to happen!” 

“Dad?”

They pull back and go still, the bubbly tunes of the TV filtering through. Grace is in the entrance way, soft and tired looking, and Danny gets over to her so fast he almost goes flying. “Hey Monkey, what’s going on?”

“You’re fighting,” she says, and she’s looking at Steve with those big, worried eyes, something collapsing in his chest. The last time she looked at him like that she thought her whole world was about to fall apart.

“No, we’re arguing. Trust me, there’s a difference.”

“What are you arguing about?”

“Just work stuff,” he lies easily, head back and looking down at her like he’s the happiest man on the planet. Steve’s not a dad, and maybe he doesn’t get that, but he gets Danny, just like Danny gets him. He knows what this is doing to him.

“I’m gonna head out,” Steve says, moving in to give Grace a goodbye hug, but Danny’s hand reaches out and curls, warm, around his forearm. They share a look over Grace’s head that Steve can’t fully decipher. Apology, or appealing, he can’t be sure.

“Stay, alright?” Danny says, and his hand slides down to Steve's wrist to secure him. “Just stay.”

*

The days fold over one another, cases interweaving. Charlie’s getting treatment and Danny’s on hand and things are tense at Five 0, like a fist at his throat. Lou points out that it’s _Steve_ making them tense, it’s Steve who’s closing himself off; and he needles and cajoles until Steve snaps and admits that he’s not doing okay. It’s like a pipe bursting, a sudden shout of,

“I don’t know what to do,” and it gushes out, all his truths, about Cath and Joe and Doris, and Danny, Danny who used to bear some of this weight but is already skimming the sea floor. Steve doesn’t want to drown him.

“You got a whole team of people just waiting or you to lay it down for them, Steve,” Lou says gently. “You’re not alone.”

“I know,” Steve says, because it’s not about being alone, or about loneliness.

He’s just lost. He doesn’t know what it’s about.

*

Jerry demands “high class eats, Commander” for his birthday and, with the help of their friends, Steve hires out half of the classiest restaurant he can manage. The last time they were all together was probably Kono’s wedding, which is a nice thought but still makes Steve ache a little. 

“Listen to him,” Danny says quietly, ducking his head into Steve’s, real close, and if they’re quiet they can hear Jerry talking to the waiter,

“When it says fresh, how fresh are we talking? Can I go out the back and catch it, or did you already do that and perceive it’s freshness by how long it took for you to bring it back to shore and stick it in the freezer?” He’s rambling, his hair slicked back and his red tie shining in the overhead light. “I was reading an article about shellfish, and the nature of their capture, and how no-one can explain why they don’t have - ”

The waiter looks about sixteen years old and green, staring at Jerry while throwing wild, sideways glances in the vicinity of the kitchen. Danny’s grabbing at Steve’s collar, struggling to breathe, while Steve laughs into his beer. Grace is on Danny’s other side, playing with her phone, only looking up when the waiter brings her a huge, heart attack of an Iced Chocolate.

“I can’t believe you tell me off for the malasadas,” Danny teases, wrapping an arm around her, but Grace just rolls her eyes, grinning from ear to ear.

“You got to eat junk food when you were a kid, Danno,” she says, sardonic, and it makes Danny laugh. (Steve knows he’s especially glad she still refers to herself as a kid.)

They have platters, and wine; they’re loud and unabashed. At one point Max tries to start up a round of karaoke but Steve’s glad that the idea falls flat. Jerry unwraps his presents at the table, and they bring out a cake about four storeys high, and a tipsy Chin sings the loudest and way, way off key. Steve throws an arm around the back of Danny’s chair, settled, and it’s warm in here, a slight breeze coming through from the ocean.

When Danny’s phone rings he mutters, “It’s Rachel,” motioning to Grace with his head, and Steve just nods his understanding, telling him to go. Grace will get worried if he’s gone too long, and Danny’s conversations with his ex-wife have been nothing but arduous lately.

“Gracie,” Steve says, sliding into Danny chair, and grabbing a napkin. “You got a pencil? Hangman. Go.”

*

That night Danny ends up in the hospital with Charlie and Rachel. Stan’s out of town, and Rachel insists Grace goes to a friend’s house for the night, and Steve feels like a piggy in the middle, his back against the wall and no interest in moving. The doctor talks to them about moderate complications, about Charlie’s heart, and Rachel quietly cries herself to sleep in the armchair by his hospital bed.

“Do you want me to call Melissa?” Steve asks, when Danny finally slumps into a chair out in the hall. His hair’s a mess and his eyes are bloodshot, and he just vibrates anger, worse than he ever has. The sight of Charlie with tubes coming out of him like snakes, his eyelids barely strong enough to stay open – it was enough to make Steve hold back his own tears.

Danny must feel like all those tubes are twisting around him, holding him down, cutting off air. Danny must feel things Steve can’t even begin to imagine.

“Huh?” Danny throws him a distracted look. “We broke up.”

“Oh. I didn’t know.”

Danny unties what’s left of his tie, throwing it to the ground. He’s bitter when he says, “I told her she was too young to get caught up in all this,” but Steve’s not sure who he’s bitter at. _What_ he’s bitter at is probably more accurate. 

“Danny, man, you can’t - ”

“Yes, I can. I did.”

“She’s a strong woman. What she’s been through - ”

“I don’t have _space_ , Steve, alright?” Danny snaps, and his voice echoes, loud, off the blank, sterile walls. “In case you missed it, I’m having trouble getting to work five days a week and that’s something I _have_ to do. I couldn’t even have a nice night out with you, and, and the team without it turning into this, and Jesus, listen to me.”

“Danny - ”

“Listen to me complain, like I always do, when my little boy is in there, Steve, just three years old, and he doesn’t, he doesn’t complain, he just…”

Steve leans in, takes the weight of Danny’s forehead on his shoulder, (the weight of everything else). He runs a strong hand up and down his back, listening to him breathe, listening to the machines whirring in Charlie’s room. Steve wonders how much more of this they’ll all have to endure, wonders how the torture of a blade, or a bullet, or anything, anything that’s thrown at them as professionals can’t be even remotely compared to this.

“They still don’t know if it’s working,” Danny says quietly, not lifting his head, maybe not ready to face it. “It still hit and miss, can you believe that? Hit and miss, like it’s a fucking game.”

“You’re doing everything you can, Danny.”

“It’s not enough,”

“It’s _all there is_. The doctors, you gotta trust the doctors to do the rest, alright? You’re not Superman.”

Danny huffs, peeling himself away to throw Steve a crooked grin. “No, that’s you, right?”

Steve just smiles, indulgently, and watches Danny start to wind up. The sharp angles of his elbows, the way his fingers are so tightly wound his knuckles are white. “Are you staying here tonight?”

“Yeah,” Danny says in a sigh, not thinking. “Yeah, I’m not sure - ”

“What do you need?”

Danny looks over, worn out and shutting down, and he lets out a breath Steve didn’t know he was holding. “Thanks, man, I – thanks.” 

*

Almost everything Steve knows about talking to kids he learnt from Danny, and their team. Before, when he was just one man in a sea of war and depravity, children were just an entity that needed protecting. The civilians’ children, America’s children, innocent children. In an abstract way he knew that they were individual people, of course, but the NAVY taught you to shut that stuff down.

The NAVY taught objectivity.

“Uncle Steve?” Grace says when Steve picks up her call, and he leaps from his chair as soon as he hears her voice. It’s broken up, and watery, and Steve has his hands on his keys before he’s ever registered what he’s saying.

“Gracie? What’s going on? Where are you?”

“I’m at home – at mom’s house.”

“Are you okay? Is everyone okay? Where’s Danno – is Charlie?”

“Do you know that Charlie is my brother?” she cuts in, and Steve freezes with one hand on his office door, ready to run. “I mean, my full brother, my – like he’s mine _and_ he’s Dad’s, did you know that?”

Steve feels like his chest is filling with water, inhaling sharp and futile. “Uh – I – yeah. I did know that. How - ”

“Why didn’t anyone _tell me_?” she cries, and her tears are more obvious now, Steve’s fingers flex with the need to reach out and comfort her. “They’re mine, they’re mine more than –“

“Hey, I know, I know,” Steve soothes, finding his feet again and heading out of his office. He sends a hasty wave to Chin, who sees him and returns it, and he starts the journey down to his car. “You’re right, of course you’re right, but you gotta stay strong right now, okay?”

“I’m not supposed to know,” she says, sniffing. “I heard Mom and Dad fighting, they thought I wasn’t there.”

“Are they still there? Are you with anyone?”

“Mom’s downstairs. I just – why did they lie? Why are they all lying?”

Steve stops at his car door, tracking a hand over his face. How someone so young can see the truth of it – can look at this and realise: we belong to each other, we deserve each other – while no-one else can. It makes Steve wants to hit something.

“Grace, do me a favour sweetheart. Just, stay there, okay? I’m going to get your Dad and you can all talk about this together, alright?”

“But I’m not supposed to know.”

“Except you do, Gracie, and you shouldn’t have to hide it. That’s not fair.”

She’s quiet for a while as Steve climbs into his truck and hooks his phone up to the hands free. She makes a soft, snuffling sound like an infant and it pains Steve that no-one is there to hold her right now. Steve’s familiar with discovering hard truths about your family – only he was a lot older, and meaner than Grace could ever be – and no one should have to face that alone.

“Okay. I’ll – okay.”

When he eventually hangs up from her, Steve calls Danny. He can feel the sadness build into worry build into anger and when Danny picks up his call Steve just snaps,

“Where are you?” because he tried telling Danny, he _tried_. He might have the hard shell of a SEAL and he might find it hard to talk, but he’s always said the important things. He’s always made sure that Danny heard it.

“Nice to hear from you, Steven, I really miss our heartfelt chats. I’m just grabbing some stuff from my place, I - ”

“Grace knows, Danny,” he says, because Danny will pick up on his tone anyway, he might as well lead with it. “She heard you and Rachel arguing at the house, and she knows Charlie is yours.”

“ _What_ ,” Danny barks at him, loud, like ice cracking. “What are you saying to me right now?”

“I’m a few minutes out, just stay there and I’ll come grab you.”

“Whoah, whoah – how the hell do you know this, what the fuck is going on?”

“She called me - ”

“She _called_ you?” he spits, and it’s menacing, maybe even malicious. Steve can just imagine what he looks like, standing in the middle of the house, torn into strips, rigid, just one long line of resentment. He feels so far away from him, and Grace, he feels so helpless.

“And she’s upset, so I told her to stay put and I would bring you over so everyone could talk, okay?”

“No, not okay, _not okay Steve_. When my daughter needs help she should be calling her father, she should come to me, this isn’t - ”

“I get that, Danny, but she didn’t, and it’s done, yeah? Stay put, I’ll be there soon.” 

Steve hangs up before Danny can get another word in.

*

When they were young, Steve and Mary used to tie bed-sheets to the trees in the yard and pretend to be pirates. He remembers with a strange clarity, despite forgetting a lot of other things; maybe because it was an easier time, maybe because he’d liked it so much. Mary had made their eye patches, and Mom had sewed their bandanas, and it was something they did every for three summers before Steve got too old for it.

Steve wonders if the house will ever see that again. That sort of happiness.

“Did you talk to Danny?” Kono asks as she joins Steve by the grill. They’re having a small thing, a no-reason thing. It’s a nice night, and they’ve wrapped up their recent case, and if these past months have taught Steve anything it’s to just do what you can, whenever you can, with the people you love. 

“Yesterday,” Steve tells her, tipping his beer to her when she passes it over. “Charlie’s at home, it’s all touch and go.”

“So, much of the same, then?”

“You could say that, yeah.”

They knew. The team knew, and their friends knew, and Danny had welcomed their congratulations but it had been with a hard smile. With the knowledge that the only reason _anyone_ knew was because his son was sick.

“Adam’s been trying to talk to me about babies,” Kono says with a small smile, and Steve, although surprised, feels a giddy at the thought.

“You’d make a great mom,” he tells her honestly, and her small smile unfurls into a huge one and she’s beaming. She says, 

“Oh I know, brah, I’ve been looking after you guys all this time.” 

Steve laughs and doesn’t try to deny it.

*

Danny shows up on Steve’s doorstep at random one night, a case of beer and a grunt, kicking his shoes off as he heads inside. Steve’s cleaning up in the kitchen, and Danny makes himself at home in front of an old football game, and otherwise it’s quiet. It’s calm.

“2007 playoffs,” Danny says when Steve slumps beside him on the sofa. He didn’t even ask. “Giants versus Packers, baby.”

Steve whistles. “How far in?”

“Almost half time. You got any pretzels?” 

“You could think to ask me when I was in the kitchen?” Steve grumbles, snatching the bottle of beer that Danny had just capped. 

“Bitch, bitch, bitch,” Danny mutters, and he’s getting up, climbing over Steve’s legs, to go and get the snacks for himself. Steve slumps right down, sinking into the cushions, feeling sleepy and sated and good.

“Big day,” Danny says when he gets back, and it’s not a question. He was there.

“Long,” Steve adds. “Long fucking day.”

Their crossed legs and socked feet kick against one another on the table, the light of the TV pooling out at them in an otherwise dark room. Danny has a big bowl on his lap, and they gorge their way through them, and Steve doesn’t care, he’ll hit the gym a little earlier tomorrow.

“How are you doing?” Danny asks him quietly, and when Steve looks over he sees Danny’s head rolled to the side, gazing at him. He looks tired, his hair’s a little out of place, his collar is twisted.

Steve reaches out a hand to fix it, not even thinking. “I’m fine.”

“You’re _fine_? Really, Steve? I thought we’d evolved from the ape like answers.”

“I’m satisfactory, Daniel, thank you for asking. I could be on vacation, but we can’t always get what we want.”

Danny smirks. “You could call the Governor right now and shut headquarters down for a week. I’d support you in this decision.”

“You’re a prince.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you all.”

“You do have the hair for it.”

“Oh,” Danny says around a soft laugh. “Don’t even get me started on hair, Mr, I Can’t Accept I’m Going Gray.”

“I accept it; I just don’t want to see it.”

Danny laughs some more, and Steve can’t help but smile back, and they’re just watching each other for a while, just taking stock. Steve can see the lines in his face, the stubble on his jaw, the curl of hair at the nape of his neck. He can see the way this man’s changed over the years, for the better, and for the worse, and he just feels so glad he was there to see it. To be part of it.

“Why don’t you talk about Cath?” Danny asks, clearing his throat, and he ducks his head back down, seems to be getting closer. 

“Uh,” Steve shakes his head a little, taken aback. “Uh, I – I don’t know. I just didn’t think it was fair to put all that on you, with everything else that’s going on.”

“Not fair? Jesus, Steve, you know what’s not fair? Losing three years of my son’s life and not knowing how much more he’s got left. Or, or finding my brother’s body in a barrel, or, or that feeling in my gut every time you go missing like, is he gonna be dead this time, has he used up his last life, that, that is unfair, not - ”

“Hey,” Steve says softly, and they’re thigh to thigh and right in close now, Steve reaching out a hand to fist in Danny’s shirt, feeling the racing beat of his heart. “Okay, I know, I just - ”

“It’s not fair that you won’t let me be there for you, too. I mean, I appreciate it, I do, but you can’t just stand around like a - ”

Steve ducks his head just enough to press his lips to Danny’s, feeling him tense under his touch. It’s not something he’s really let himself think about, but it’s not something that shocks him either. They’re a matched set. Head to heart to body to mouth, and the kiss is just the final clue. The way forward is clear now.

“Steve,” Danny whispers in the small space between their mouths, but the back of his hand hits Steve’s chest and his fingers curls in his tee. “Steve,” he says again, but it’s more like a groan this time, pulsing at Steve’s dick, his hand coming up to cup Danny’s face, opening his mouth.

They kiss. A long, heady kiss that Danny barely moves for; just sitting back and taking it all and Steve suddenly wants, wants, wants. He climbs up, his knees either side of Danny and his hands on the back of the sofa and Danny just tilts his head up, just searches for Steve’s mouth with his own. 

“Can we go to the bedroom?” Danny asks, hoarse, a hand moving around to pull at Steve’s waist band, dangerously close to his ass. He’s looking up at Steve, his eyes hazy and bottom lip caught in his teeth, and Steve feels like every hair on his body is on end, like there’s a simmering charge across every inch of his skin.

“You want this?” Steve asks, ignoring the way Danny rolls his eyes. “I mean – tonight, right now, we could – we could wait, if you need - ”

“I need you to go with me to your bedroom, Steve,” he says, pushing Steve off enough to get up off the sofa. He proffers his hand, and a look, a new look that maybe means, I want to be with you, I want you to be mine, I just want you, and sex, and love, _come on_.

“Okay.”

Or maybe it just means, I’m in love with you.

* 

The first time Steve sees Stan again, he’s elbow to elbow with Danny at the doorstep of the Edwards’ house. Danny’s muttering at him to relax, and he feels like an idiot in his shirt, and when Stan opens the door his knuckles go white on reflex. He knows all of that is done now. He knows that Danny and Stan drank and talked and maybe even cried and that he has no right to be angry any more.

He is anyway.

“Danny. Steve. Come in.”

Rachel meets them in the foyer and they make small talk about work and when they go through to the other room Grace and Charlie are drawing at the table. They call, “Danno!” in unison, as he goes in to kiss and hug, and Steve just watches from afar, and waits, until they call him over.

They’ve talked about it a lot. About the idea of having the kids on a more permanent basis, maybe one week on and one week off if they could swing it with Stan and Rachel. Charlie’s situation is sensitive, but hopeful, and Danny would move into Steve’s place tomorrow if it meant they could have the kids but – but it’s just a thought for now.

“It’s nice to have you in our home,” Rachel says when she meets Steve in the kitchen. He swings around from where he’d been looking at the drawings all over the fridge. Pictures of Rachel, Stan and Grace, pictures of Danny and Steve. There are even some photos, and postcards, a tribute to this extended family.

“Thanks, Rachel,” Steve says, putting his hands in his pockets. “It’s good to be here.”

“I - ” she falters. She looks away, off to the side, as if she might find the courage elsewhere. “I’m so glad for everything, you know. For Danny, and – and for you. That he has you.”

“Well. I am too.”

“I don’t suppose there’s anyway to convince you I never meant to hurt him.”

“I think we’re all way past that now.”

“Yes. I suppose you’re right.” She allows a small smile, and moves around to pick up a bottle of wine. Before she leaves she stops and says, “Thank you, Steve.”

“For what?”

“For Danny, I suppose.”

Steve watches her go, sees her pass Danny on the way out, who comes in with a smile and a little spring in his step. Steve wonders how much credit he can take for this man, and his happiness, and whether he’d want to. It’s not a selfless thing after all, what he gives to Danny he gets back in return.

“What were you two talking about?”

“China patterns,” Steve teases, grabbing Danny when he gets close enough, pulling him in for a kiss. Danny uses his weight to back Steve into the fridge, pulling him down with a hand around Steve’s neck. It’s breathy and insistent and inappropriate for a family lunch, proved when a little voice says,

“Danno?” somewhere behind them.

Charlie’s standing there with a cup, and his head tipped to one side, grinning at them like he knows exactly what they were up to. Danny flushes and straightens his collar and quickly slides down and skids over to kneel in front of Charlie. “Hey, buddy, what’s – what’ve you got there?”

“Can I have some orange juice?”

“Of course you can, is that all?”

“Mmhmm,” he says with an exaggerated nod, then looks over Danny’s shoulder to Steve. “Uncle Steve, are you still kissing Danno, ‘cause I want you to come play with me.”

Danny barks out a laugh, throwing a relieved look at Steve, and Steve is completely powerless, moving over with an outstretched hand. “Yeah, Charlie, I’m there, little man, let’s go.”

As they head out the kitchen he calls back, “Make that two OJs, Danno, one with ice.”

*

Steve’s spare room has two beds, one red and shaped like a race car, the other surrounded in posters of boy bands and horses. There’s a night light and a lamp, a wardrobe and a dresser, and one of those mats in the middle that has roads and train tracks printed on it. He closes the door when the kids aren’t there, because it’s their’s, and they’re not around to give permission. 

Danny thinks it’s silly but Danny only ever had one childhood home, he doesn’t get it the way Steve gets it.

“I’m going to the store,” Danny says as he comes up behind Steve, a hand on his shoulder and a kiss to his head. “You want anything?”

“I’m good,” Steve says, putting his hand on Danny’s hand, putting his head back to meet him in a proper kiss. “Just,” he swings the stool around, pulls Danny in closer, and Danny’s collapsing forward, having to hold himself up against the bench. He laughs and groans into Steve’s mouth, gripping at shirt and skin, rocking in.

“I meant do you want anything _at the store_ ,” he teases, but he drops his keys anyway and let's Steve keep him.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr.](http://thefancyspin.tumblr.com)


End file.
